


i'm wasting my time when it was always you

by Hazloveshisboo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, and everyone knows it but him, but that's not super important tbh, jon is in love with sansa, jon kills dany before she destroys KL, this is slightly au, very very minor angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23075110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazloveshisboo/pseuds/Hazloveshisboo
Summary: “I never wanted to be King, Sansa, and I am giving up all titles. I will happily act as an advisor or whatever you want, but I want no title.” Sansa sighed and was quiet for a moment.“What about the title of Captain? Of my Queensguard?” she offered, and Bran could hear the hope in her voice. Jon let out a short laugh and nodded.“Aye, I suppose that is a title I would be honored to hold,” Jon smiled warmly at Sansa, Bran noticed a smile that reached his eyes. Sansa returned the gesture in kind as Arya poured them all a drink to toast their new Queen.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 95





	i'm wasting my time when it was always you

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for a Jonsa fic fest that never happened but I already wrote it so I figured I would post it anyway! 
> 
> title is from Always You by Louis Tomlinson

The journey back North was a quiet and awkward one. Jon kept to his cabin in the ship while Sansa, Arya, and Bran planned their next moves once they returned to Winterfell. They knew they would have to sit down with Jon to speak with him about what happened while he was in Dragonstone and King’s Landing because while Bran could see what could and what had happened, he could not know the motivations or feelings behind it.

When they finally made it to White Harbor, it was less than a moon’s ride to Winterfell. Bran was confined to a carriage with Sansa most of the journey while Jon and Arya rode with the rest of their company. Bran and Sansa spoke in-depth about how to approach Jon. By the time they reached Winterfell, there was a solid plan in place.

They left Jon to his devices for the first sennight they were at home, which meant he spent as much time as possible by himself in either his chambers or the Godswood but on the seventh night, the three sat down in Sansa’s solar and sent Brienne to fetch Jon. Within a few minutes, the pair returned, Jon sitting at the table with his cousins. Brienne nodded and went to stand guard outside the door, shutting it behind her. 

“What is all this about?” Jon asked huffily, leaning back to look at all three of them, though Bran noticed his eyes lingering on Sansa. 

“We know you feel guilty, Jon, over what happened to Dan-” Sansa started but Jon cut her off. 

“I don’t feel guilty about killing Daenerys. She was a tyrant that tried to murder all of King’s Landing,” Jon said sharply. “But I had chances to do the right thing for months before. I could have saved thousands of more lives. But I had to...I had to protect all of you. And the North. Killing Dany was the best thing to do for the North, and for all seven kingdoms.” 

“Then why have you been acting so strange?” Arya asked, leaning forward to look at Jon. “You’ve been avoiding us and all conversation.” 

“Because I’m ashamed, Arya. I should have done more, I should have tried harder with Daenerys but instead, I acted like a scared little boy and got people killed - people with families and children,” Jon took a deep breath and looked down at the table. Bran narrowed his eyes. 

“Jon, Daenerys was crazed from the moment you met her. She was already on a downward spiral that you could not have stopped,” Bran said simply. “We understand the actions you had to take were in the North’s best interests. But we were not sure how you truly felt about your own actions.” Bran could easily conclude now that Jon harbored ill feelings toward the dragon queen and released himself as much as he did the seven kingdoms when he slew her. But he couldn’t help but watch Jon as he spoke, recounting the events of the last few months, and notice the way Jon kept his gaze trained on Sansa but still glanced at him and Arya. He knew that while here at Winterfell, Daenerys made several direct threats to Sansa’s safety if she did not comply with what the dragon queen wanted and that had been part of Jon’s reasoning for what he did, even if he didn’t admit it to them.

“There is another matter to discuss,” Bran said simply once Jon had finished. “Who will rule the North. I have already renounced my title and have no interest in being King.” 

“I renounce my title and claim as well. You all know that I have never wanted to be a lady, much less a queen,” Arya shrugged and leaned back in her seat. “That only leaves the two of you.” She looked between Jon and Sansa, eyebrows raised. 

“I didn’t want to be King the first time I was elected, and I doubt that the people would want a Targaryen on the throne,” Jon started and then looked at Sansa, “not to mention that Sansa would be the best monarch the North has ever seen.” Sansa flushed slightly and shook her head to protest.

“The lords elected you, Jon, they wanted you to be King,” she said but before she could continue, Jon raised his hand to stop her. 

“I never wanted to be King, Sansa, and I am giving up all titles. I will happily act as an advisor or whatever you want, but I want no title.” Sansa sighed and was quiet for a moment. 

“What about the title of Captain? Of my Queensguard?” she offered, and Bran could hear the hope in her voice. Jon let out a short laugh and nodded. 

“Aye, I suppose that is a title I would be honored to hold,” Jon smiled warmly at Sansa, Bran noticed a smile that reached his eyes. Sansa returned the gesture in kind as Arya poured them all a drink to toast their new Queen. 

***  
Brienne was standing on one side of Sansa’s newly made throne, Jon Snow on the other, as their new Queen walked down the aisle to take her place. The Lords and Ladies flanked the aisle, watching Sansa as she walked. Brienne glanced over at Jon to, unsurprisingly, see him staring at Sansa. He never took his eyes off her as she made it to her throne and sat delicately. She listened as Arya stood next to the throne with Sansa’s silver direwolf crown, reciting an oath for Sansa to repeat. 

Brienne herself felt pride in Sansa for what she had accomplished, but she did not think her feelings could rival Jon’s at this moment. The man looked overwhelmed with affection, joy, and gratification. Brienne rolled her eyes subtly and turned her attention back to their queen.

*  
Sansa’s coronation feast was a celebration the North had not seen in years but one it deserved. Not only were the lords and ladies gathered in the hall, but as many people from Wintertown that could fit, Sansa had invited everyone. It was a good first move as queen, Brienne thought, it showed her people that she cared about them. 

Brienne had offered to stay sober and on guard for the night, giving all the Stark’s a chance to celebrate together. They were seated at the head table, Jon and Sansa next to each other in the middle with Bran on Sansa’s other side and Arya on Jon’s. The guests had already eaten and everyone was well on their way to being drunk, a few soldiers and guests already there. The Stark’s were not, but she could see the flush on Sansa’s cheeks from the wine she loved so much. 

The wine made Sansa more open with her affections, and to Brienne, it was obvious to whom her affections were directed. She was consistently running her hand over his arm or grabbing his hand to get attention, and when he was looking at her, she would run her fingers through her hair. Brienne knew this was all very deliberate, but she did not believe Jon’s returned touches were. His seemed more instinctual and reactive than purposeful. 

Jon was very much in love with Sansa, but Brienne wasn’t sure if the man even knew it himself. He had a tendency to deny himself pleasures, perhaps a leftover trait from believing he was a bastard or the murder from his brothers that he endured. Brienne was sure that Jon did not even realize his feelings for their queen, even if Sansa knew her own in detail. 

Brienne did not let herself worry about it. Sansa was queen now and after the hardships she had dealt with, there was no question that Sansa would get exactly what she wanted. The Gods owed it to her. 

***  
Arya trailed behind Jon and Sansa as they walked the streets of Wintertown, a basket over Sansa’s arm - the one that wasn’t hooked through Jon’s anyway. Arya kept an eye on them and anyone they passed by. Despite Jon’s insistence that she brings multiple guards, Sansa said that he and Arya were enough. She wanted her people to know she was approachable and similar to them and Arya thought she did a good job of it. Sansa wore simple dresses and very rarely wore jewelry, not even her crown. She still did her hair in northern braids and Winterfell, while grand in size and the comforts if offered, was not decorated ostentatiously. Sansa had found local artisans to construct and furnish the keep as it was rebuilt and she kept things simple and inexpensive. 

Sansa was a good queen. 

Even now, as Arya trailed behind her sister and brother-turned-cousin, Sansa spoke with everyone they passed, usually just a simple greeting, but an acknowledgment nonetheless. 

While Arya thought Sansa was a great queen, many thought her indescribable - namely Jon. He would take every opportunity to gush about what an amazing job Sansa was doing as queen. He also took his duty as captain of her Queensguard very seriously, despite there being no whispers of rebellion, revolt, or even just a small scale riot. 

Jon walked two steps behind and to the left of her at all times, and his hand was always on the pommel of his sword - unless they were walking like this, arms intertwined. 

Arya thought he was being a bit dramatic but that’s what you do when you’re in love, she supposed. Not that she would know; she had never been in love. She thinks. 

Her love life is of no consequence, not when Jon is in love with her sister and won’t even admit it to himself. 

Arya watched as Sansa stopped at the entrance to the orphanage, one of the first buildings they had to expand after the Long Night. Sansa kissed Jon’s cheek and let go of his arm as she stepped inside. Jon followed her in but Arya did not - she did not want to see the worst of the devastation from the wars just yet. 

Arya waited just outside the door and she could hear the children’s cries of happiness at seeing Sansa. She knew her sister spoiled the children when she came to see them, as she so often did. They were not in long, as Sansa would have to go around and meet with the small folk to discuss their needs. 

Her family exited the building and turned toward the town square, Arya following once more. 

Arya watched Jon as the pair walked ahead of her. He walked at Sansa’s pace, nodded along as she spoke, and responded whenever she paused. 

Jon was definitely in love. Maybe she could use these observations to determine her own feelings for Winterfell’s new blacksmith. 

***  
“We have no defenses in the North with the wall gone,” one of the lords so helpfully pointed out. Davos resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him from across the table. 

“We don’t have anything to defend against in the North. We’ve made peace with the Wildlings and the White Walkers are gone. We need to focus defenses along actual borders,” Davos said sternly. He glanced at Jon and Brienne, who were sitting across from him. The Queen was not able to make it to this specific meeting, working with the carpenters and stonemasons on the rebuilding of the keep. 

“I am not sure if we even need to worry about that,” Jon spoke up. “We have a good relationship with the Riverlands and the Vale and I have no reason to think they would ruin that anytime soon. What I think we should focus on is the queen’s guard. As the captain of her Queensguard, I see many holes in her guard and we need to fix that.” 

“We would if she would let us,” one of the other Queensguards said, “but Sir, anytime we try to go with her anywhere, she says it is not necessary and we can’t very well disobey the queen.” Jon sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. 

“That woman is going to be the death of me,” he muttered, almost too quiet for Davos to hear. “As your direct superior, I am telling you you must disobey the queen if she tells you not to act as her guard. It is your duty to protect and if something happened to her because you listened she said she would be fine, it’s your head that would be on the chopping block.” Davos noted how angry Jon looked, but he couldn’t tell if it was with Sansa or the guard. Seeing Jon like this reminded him of their quest to take back the North, and how protective Jon was of Sansa. Davos snorted as Jon kept going, explaining to the guards that their priority was the safety of the queen, which was a bit silly as Jon, Brienne, and Ghost were the best protectors the Queen could ask for and she didn’t really need anyone else. 

“I will swing the blade myself if the queen gets hurt on any of your watches,” Davos recognized the anger in his voice, the same tone he took when speaking of Ramsey Bolton. Suddenly Davos realized: Jon was in love with his cousin. 

It wasn’t really a surprise, Jon was always more concerned with Sansa than himself, and now that she is queen, even more so. He wasn’t even sure if the poor sod even knew how he felt or if he was just continuing on with what he knew. 

Either way, Davos thought, there would be heirs within the year. Sansa was not one to sit back and wait for something she wanted. 

***  
Jon poured Sansa another glass of wine before sitting down once more. Ghost watched him from his spot in front of the dying fire. “Did anything else of note happen, my Queen?” Jon asked.

“You know you can call me Sansa,” she responded and rolled her eyes. Jon didn’t care. She was queen and she deserved all the respect that came along with it; she more than earned it. “But I did find Arya at the forge. She’s been spending a lot of time there.” Jon took a deep breath. Arya was his little sister - even if she was technically his cousin, she was still his little sister and he hated the thought of her with anyone...like that. 

“She’s too young for that,” Sansa snorted. “What?”

“We both know you were younger than she is now when you were with Ygritte,” Sansa said and raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of wine. “And I was her age when I was with Ramsey.” Jon seethed at the mention of the long-dead bastard. Sansa should have had so much better than him, someone that would treat her well and make her feel good. 

“And that piece of shit doesn’t deserve the words from your mouth,” Jon nearly growled. “He’s inconsequential now.” 

“Not entirely,” Sansa shrugged and looked down at her hands. Jon frowned at that. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“I am not a maiden and possible suitors know that. It could make my worth as a bride less,” she said casually but Jon almost saw red.

“Possible suitors? What do you mean possible suitors?” 

“The North needs heirs Jon, and that’s not going to happen unless I get married,” she said. “I haven’t made any decisions but I have been receiving letters asking for my hand and I have been considering marrying and making my husband a consort.” 

“Sansa you deserve more than that,” Jon insisted, standing from his seat and pacing across the floor as he processed what she was saying. “After everything that has happened to you, you deserve someone who loves you, someone who cherishes you and protects you, someone who wants you to be happy and will do anything to make that happen.” 

“That’s a very sweet thought, Jon, but after everything, the Gods have put me through...I don’t think a loving, romantic relationship is in the cards,” Sansa admitted. “I have been through so much and for someone to know all that and still see something they could love, well, I don’t think that will happen.” She sighed wistfully and downed the rest of her wine. 

“That’s not true Sansa. You’re the most amazing person I have ever met, and I know that there is someone out there that will love you unconditionally,” Jon knelt in front of Sansa and grabbed one of her hands. “I promise. You’re the smartest person in Westeros and Essos, you’re cunning and witty and beautiful, inside and out.” 

“Do you think anyone is in love with me right now?” Sansa asked shyly. 

“All of the smallfolk?” Jon chuckled and smiled when it caused Sansa to do the same. “They adore you, my Queen.” 

“I’m being serious, Jon. Do you think someone is in love with me?” she bit her lip, a bit anxiously, Jon thought. 

“Not that I know of, but that doesn’t mean no one is,” Jon reassured her, squeezing her hand. Unexpectedly, Sansa pulled her hand away and stood, causing Jon to waver where he knelt. 

“Thank you for keeping me company this evening, Jon, but I have an early morning tomorrow and I must retire to get enough rest,” she smiled tightly at him and then swiftly exited through the door to her chambers. Jon furrowed his brows, unsure of where the conversation went sour. He pushed himself to his feet and made his way to his chambers, on the opposite side of the solar to Sansa’s, whistling for Ghost to follow. 

He played their words over and over in his head, still unsure as to where Sansa took offense but could not come up with anything plausible. Perhaps she had her moonblood and was prone to mood swings? Jon decided not to dwell on it too much and shook his head. Sansa was right about having an early morning and as he had assigned himself her guard for her trip to Wintertown, it was best he gets some sleep as well.

***  
Gendry was examining a sword he was repairing for the one of the Queensguard when Arya wandered into the forge. “Hello, milady,” he said without looking up from his work.

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” she said flatly, jumping up onto the workbench. “What do you have to work on today?”

“Just some small repairs. Nothing big until tomorrow,” he replied, glancing her way. “Why?”

“Because now you have time to talk,” Arya smirked. “Sansa is thinking of inviting suitors to the castle.” 

“What? Why in the seven hells would she do that?” Gendry was so confused about the idea of Sansa even looking for suitors. “Why doesn’t she just marry Jon?”

“Because Jon is a dumbarse who doesn't even realize he’s in love with her,” Arya rolled her eyes. “I’ve tried to get it out of him but he truly does not have any idea how he feels about her.” 

“I know that. I’ve talked about it with Brienne and Davos and they see it too. We’ve tried dropping hints, but he doesn’t take the bait and that man wears his emotions on his face too much to be able to hide that,” Gendry shrugged. “Inviting suitors might finally push him over the edge. Finally make it real that if he doesn’t do something soon, she’ll have to marry someone else.”

“Perhaps. But he already knows she’s been getting offers, she told me that they talked about it and when she asked if anyone was in love with her, he said that he didn’t know of anyone,” Arya groaned. 

“So what are you gonna do?” Gendry asked, finally coming to stand between Arya’s legs, hands resting on her thighs, leaving black smudges on her trousers. 

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?” 

“Are you really going to let Sansa marry someone besides Jon?” Gendry asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well of course not,” Arya retorted. 

“Then you have to make Jon realize how he feels about Sansa. Because the Gods know he’s not going to get there on his own,” he squeezed Arya’s thighs. “And I know you want them to be happy.” Arya groaned and pushed at his chest half-heartedly. 

“Whatever. But fine, I’ll think of something but for now?” she pulled him back so their chests were pressed together. “I don’t want to talk about my family anymore.” Gendry had no choice but to comply. 

***  
Sansa surveyed the repairs to the glass gardens happily. They were soon to be finished, which means they would be able to begin growing crops that needed warmer weather, as well as help other keeps build their own. She could hear Jon’s footsteps behind her as she walked. The glass gardens were the last stop on her tour and she headed into the Godswood, straight into the middle to the Heart Tree. She sat on the bench, Jon stopping just behind her.

“I have decided to invite my suitors to the keep,” she said, keeping her entire self forward, not wanting Jon to see her face as she spoke - but that was useless as Jon circled around the bench to face her. 

“You’re going to what?” Jon asked. Sansa looked up at him, keeping her face as neutral as possible. Jon, however, looked angry. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth set in a frown. 

“The North needs an heir Jon, I’ve told you this before. And that cannot happen without a husband,” Sansa said simply. 

“And like I said, Sansa, you should wait for someone to love you to get married,” Jon repeated his thoughts from the previous moon. 

“And unless you have someone for me who loves right now, Jon, I cannot afford to wait much longer!” Sansa finally snapped and stood, glaring at her cousin. “I am queen now, Jon. I do not get to marry for love unless the man I happen to fall in love with holds a high title.” 

“Sansa you have years left before you’re out of child-bearing age,” Jon tried to argue. “You have the time to spare.” 

“Except I don’t. I am queen Jon, I have to have an heir, as soon as possible. It will stabilize the North as well as my reign. It will give the common folk something to celebrate and the lords and ladies' relief. I must marry and I must have an heir,” Sansa kept her voice even as she spoke, not wanting to be accused of being too emotional - though she knew Jon would never do such a thing. 

“I understand that, Sansa, I do. The lords were starting to pressure me to marry before the Long Night, but you should at least give yourself the chance to fall in love with someone,” Jon said and stepped closer to her. 

“Isn’t that what I am doing? Inviting suitors to Winterfell?” Sansa raised her eyebrows, getting frustrated with how stubborn Jon was. She was so hoping that Jon would take this opportunity to offer himself as her one and only suitor. “I know there are several southron lords that have written, and there are even a few Freefolk that have shown interest.” 

“No, no Sansa, that’s not what I mean. Fall in love with someone outside the parameters of finding a husband,” Jon protested immediately, and she noticed his face growing redder. 

“I’m already in love with someone!” Sansa shouted, chest heaving. “I am already in love with someone and he obviously doesn’t feel the same or he would have said something by now!” She sent him one last glare before hurrying out of the Godswood and away from Jon. She could feel the beginnings of tears in her eyes and told herself it was the biting cold of the winter air. 

*  
Jon watched Sansa rush from the Godswood with his mouth hanging open. Sansa was in love with someone? Who could she have feelings for? 

Jon wasn’t sure how long he stood before the Heart Tree in a daze but it was past luncheon when he finally emerged. He needed to find out who the person Sansa loved was so that he could talk some sense into the man, despite the fact it felt like his heart was in his stomach at the thought of Sansa marrying. He brushed it off, sure that he just wanted to protect the last of his family the best he could. 

He set off towards the forge, knowing Arya would be the most likely to know and that’s where she was most likely to be. Luck was on his side, as he walked in and Arya was sitting on the workbench as Gendry was bent over a grindstone. 

“What do you wa-” Arya began but Jon interrupted her before she could finish.

“Who is Sansa in love with?” he asked, Gendry letting his foot fall off the pedal and the grindstone slowed to a stop as he turned. 

“What did you just ask?” Arya sounded surprised. 

“Sansa, she told me that she’s in love with someone and you’re most likely to know who it is,” Jon said. 

“And why do you want to know?” Arya narrowed her eyes at him and Jon shifted a bit uncomfortably.

“I just want to know. To maybe talk some sense into him,” Jon shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. Arya nodded and let her face fall into a neutral expression. 

“Are you sure that’s all? There’s no other reason you would want to know?” she asked, sliding off the work table. “You wouldn’t want to know because you’re...jealous?” Jon gasped at the accusation. 

“Why in the world would I be jealous?” Jon asked, feeling his face flush. Before Arya could respond, Gendry groaned loudly and stomped forward, pressing a finger into Jon’s chest.

“Because, you dumb fucker, you’re in love with her,” he practically spat. “You’ve been in love with her for as long as I’ve known you and you’re just too thick to realize it.” 

“W-what?” Jon stuttered, shaking his head quickly. “No, n-no, I am not in love with Sansa! She’s my sister!” 

“She’s your cousin,” Arya corrected. “And Jon, please stop being dumb. You love her and everyone knows. We know, Davos knows, Brienne and Bran know, fuck, even Ghost knows. Just grow some bollocks and admit it already.” 

“Yeah mate, you really do. All you do is stare at her. You constantly worry about her and where she is and if she’s safe. At the first mention of her in danger, you jump to the extreme. Despite having a full Queensguard, you rarely utilize them so that you can be with her,” Gendry listed, holding eye contact with Jon. Jon was trying to process everything the two of them had said, mind racing. 

“N-no, I can’t be in love with Sansa, she’s Queen in the North, she deserves far more than I could offer,” he muttered. 

“What you could offer? You mean the former King in the North? The man who started and finished a war for her? To keep her safe from her rapist and abuser? The man who risked his life by manipulating a murderous tyrant with dragons and then killing said tyrant when she became too big a threat to the North? The man that spent the last six moons by her side, counseling her and protecting her almost single-handedly?” Arya raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for him to reply. Jon looked down at his feet, feeling almost sheepish. “Sansa is in love with you Jon. And if you really are in love with her, like we all think you are, you two deserve each other. You two deserve to be happy.” 

Jon’s breath hitched and he nodded. “Sansa does deserve to be happy. More than anyone else on this godforsaken continent.” 

“Then go make her happy,” Gendry clapped a hand on his shoulder and Jon looked up at him. Gendry nodded his head once. “Now. Go.” He pushed Jon slightly and sent him an encouraging smile. Jon stood for just a moment and then slowly backed out of the forge, turning and running toward the keep, thinking she would likely have retreated to their solar or her chambers. 

Jon thought deeply as he moved, about how deeply he cared about Sansa. It was not the same as what he felt for Ygritte, and he thinks that is where he got confused. What he and Ygritte shared was passionate, definitely, but was for survival as well. In the deep North, where life was never guaranteed, Jon needed someone like Ygritte to keep himself going.

Sansa - the way he felt for Sansa was miles different. When he saw her that day at Castle Black, so long ago now, he felt alive for the first time since his betrayal. Traveling with Sansa, spending late nights as she plaited his hair or brushed Ghost’s fur in front of the fire, it brought him back to himself and gave him a purpose like nothing ever had before. And when Danaerys - when she had threatened Sansa, Jon had felt an anger he hadn’t felt since he met Ramsey Bolton on the battlefield. 

And just as he ran through the doors to the keep it finally hit him. He was in love with Sansa. He was not sure why he didn't know before; perhaps he pushed it down as they still believed themselves to be siblings, perhaps he truly was just that thick. But none of that matters now. 

He sprinted up the stairs and threw open the door to their solar but that was empty. He prayed to the Gods that she was in her chambers and walked over to the door, knocking twice. He waited for her permission to enter and pushed the door open, wanting to shove a knife through his own gut as he saw her tear-stained face - it would surely hurt less than the guilt he was feeling. 

“Jon?” Sansa sounded surprised. Jon took a deep breath and walked forward, stopping directly in front of her. He dropped to his knees in front of the chair she was sitting in. 

“I...I love you, Sansa,” he said simply. He could hear Sansa’s gasp as he said those three words. “I am in love with you and I am sorry that it took so long for me to realize.” 

“You truly love me?” her voice cracked as she spoke. Jon nodded and hesitantly reached out, taking her hands in his. He was not expecting the giggle she let out, or the smile that brightened her entire face. “Took you long enough.” 

Before Jon could react, Sansa was leaning down to press their lips together and Jon let himself fall into it and - he thought he felt settled when he spotted the fire red of her hair against the snow at the Wall but that was nothing compared to this feeling. Jon finally felt, truly felt for the first time in his life, here in Sansa’s arms, that he was home.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://hazloveshisboo.tumblr.com/)


End file.
